Miles had had ample time to contemplate his potential new immortality when he'd been in the hospital. Especially after that one monstrous incident with the Walrider. The parasite wouldn't allow the death of the host. Would he even age anymore, or would he go straight-up Dorian Gray?

He liked absolutely nothing about it. Sometimes he thought he'd rather have died.

But this train of thought was far from his mind now, because he wasn't alone at night staring up at his ceiling.

"I mean...chugging all those drinks would get to you, especially since I'm not even sure how much you had before I got here," he teased. "And it's okay if you don't really think I make sense. A lot of people don't."